When The Wizard Waved His Wand
by Silken Petal Waning
Summary: It is a dark night. By request Gandalf tries to light his staff and allow them back their sight. Much chaos ensues as his mistake becomes suddenly apparent. Can they sort this one out?
1. The Wind Did Not Change

Author's Note: I thought I would try my hand at a bit of humour to balance the drama of my other work of fanfiction. I do not own anything created by Tolkien's imagination etc. etc., as it is proper to mention. Any and all criticisms are welcomed, unless they are irrelevant and unfounded. That said, please enjoy!  
  
Chapter One: The Wind Did Not Change .  
  
***  
  
The darkling night was dark, and the unshapely shapes of heavy clouds loomed heavily overhead. Somewhere in the cloak of black that hung over the lands something whimpered, and somewhere else in the darkness another something tripped noisily over something else, which cursed in a most uncouth fashion.  
  
'Bugger it Gandalf!' came a frustrated cry. 'You can remember the incantation for growing genetically-enhanced pipeweed - but you can't even remember the spell to light your staff?! By the way, was that you Legolas?'  
  
'No, 'twas the DWARF your feet happened to fall on.'  
  
Yet somewhere else in the darkness yet another something appeared to have been trodden on. 'Oh, sorry, Frodo - didn't see you there,' came the sheepish apology, when alerted by a sudden inexplicable increase in the elevation of the land which could only mean that - something had been trodden on.  
  
'I'b dot Fwodo, kydly ged off by fayz,' came the rather muffled reply. 'What?' asked the first. 'I think you're standing on his face,' came the answer of another something, and then, 'Is that you Boromir?'  
  
'No, I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, and kindly remove your hand from my crotch area, Frodo. It's making me a tad uncomfortable.'  
  
'EEYAH! And I'm not Frodo, I'm Pippin. Valar, Merry! You've known me since I was born, and you can't even tell who I am in the dark? I am thoroughly offended.'  
  
'Very well, I apologise. It's rather hard to differentiate by voice considering we all caught Aragorn's Valar damned cold - well, except for Legolas, but he sounds like he's forever congested anyway. Maybe Elves have permanent sinusitis, I remember Elrond talking like that too; although maybe they're just all gay - er, Pippin, your hand - please ...'  
  
Pippin withdrew his hand with a speed that could have outraced the blink of an eye, while in the background his indistinguishable companions chortled with childish delight. Meanwhile, low mutterings of something which may have or may not have been exerpts of incantations came from the wizard's general direction.  
  
'How long have we been wholly consumed by this forsaken darkness?' came the unmistakable voice of Legolas Greenleaf, laced with his customary whine and a dash of that adorable something which all Elves seemed to annoyingly have.  
  
'Er ... four hours I think,' came the answer of whom they presumed was Aragorn, but as he had just been getting over that particularly nasty cold he had contracted two weeks before and was now suffering a relapse, it might have been Gimli.  
  
'Dammit Gandalf! Can't you just light a fire - whose hand is that?' came the loud tones of Boromir, followed by some rather uncomfortable shifting. 'Oh, sorry ... was looking for my cloak,' answered the humiliated voice of Samwise Gamgee. 'Frodo? Mr. Frodo, where are you? You haven't said naught or complained or had anyone trip on you yet.'  
  
'I'm over here,' came the reply. 'Though I'm not quite sure where here is - would whoever is sitting beside me kindly take their fumbling hand away from my chest?'  
  
'Sorry.'  
  
'Boromir! Would you just try to resist the urges of the Ring? I know it's beautiful and so - very powerful and - shiny and smooth and - golden ... I'm moving away from here.' The grass crunched underfoot as someone, they assumed it was Aragorn again, got up to move, and consequentially ended up sprawled in an untidy heap on the ground, much to the horror of Merry who had chosen that spot to lie down in.  
  
'Ha ha! I've remembered!' came Gandalf's triumphant voice. 'Luminous lighto, presto chango!'  
  
A momentary pause -  
  
'Ahem ... yes, well, it might have escaped your notice but - IT IS STILL VERY DARK OUT HERE!'  
  
'Alright Pippin, no need to get in a rut,' came Frodo's voice.  
  
'I AM BOROMIR! There is a distinct difference between a hobbit and myself!'  
  
'Sorry, but I thought you were sitting over ... never mind - you sound funny. Have you caught Aragorn's cold again? See? I told you we should have quarantined him!'  
  
'Well, I say we should try to sleep out the rest of the dark hours. We'll have plenty of light in the morning,' came the subdued cheerfulness of Gimli's voice, who, it appeared, seemed to have moved at least ten paces without their noticing.  
  
'Gimli? Have you been sniffing Aragorn's athelas again?' came Legolas' voice, who had not moved at all. A wet sniffle sounded from Aragorn's direction, definately belonging to Aragorn. Legolas flinched.  
  
'I'm over here you pansy, and no I have not,' said who they thought was Gimli obstinately. Well, since the voice carried Gimli's characteristic indignant gruffness, they had to assume it was him once again.  
  
'But I thought I heard ... I'm too tired for this,' muttered Legolas. 'Aragorn, if you dare use the back of my shirt as a hankerchief again tonight, expect to be dead come sunrise.'  
  
***  
  
The grey of dawn gave way to the rosy hue of the rising sun, and the morning chorus of small birds burst out in upraising unity. Strangely enough, it was Sam who woke first to greet the sun, stretching gratefully in the light and warmth so graciously bestowed upon them by the new day after the long dark of the night.  
  
Gimli was the next to wake: he whom was usually one of the last and had to be wrestled out of his blankets. 'Morning Sam,' he said brightly, in a manner that was very unlike that of the dwarf's, and sprang up to relieve heavy limbs of the cramping aches resulting from the awkward position he had taken to lying in - yet another strange thing.  
  
'Morning Sam,' he called, seeing the hobbit rummaging about nearby. Sam looked up in surprise, squinting at the dwarf. 'Are you blind?' he asked.  
  
'No. Why?'  
  
'Because I'm not Sam - I'm Legolas. You are Gimli, I am Legolas. Must I spell it out for you?'  
  
'Sam, did you knock yourself on the head last night? I'm not Gimli, my name is Pippin and you know me well enough to see that I am not a dwarf.'  
  
'No, you are definately a dwarf, unless you have gone and ... oh my Valar ... '  
  
A long moment of awkwardness ensued, in which the two screamed similtaneously and stared blankly at one another before rocketing down the slope to check their reflections in the small nearby creek, after which more screams followed.  
  
Aragorn sat up bemusedly, scratching his tousled head. 'What's the matter with you? Sam, you scream like a girl,' he yawned. 'I am NOT Sam,' cried the hobbit. 'And I'm not Gimli' cried the dwarf, adding, 'Or Sam!' for the sake of good measure.  
  
'Course you are, go back to sleep,' muttered Aragorn, slumping back down onto his cloak, which he had recently been sharing with Legolas due to the fact the Elf's was somewhat missing in action, having been rolled in the mud by Gimli and then deposited back in Legolas' pack.  
  
However, shortly after falling back asleep, Aragorn snorted, scratched, farted loudly and stole the entire cloak, then resumed his snoring. Legolas woke up and snatched it back. 'Valya Aragorn! What did you eat last night?' he asked, scrunching up his dainty Elven nose in disgust. 'Elbereth, I'm moving! ... Why was I even sleeping beside you in the first place? Did I sleep-walk or something, because I swear I fell asleep over there somewhere - ' A short pause ensued, in which he groped at his neck, his face a mask of horror. Resting hands on hips, he glared and said, 'Alright, Boromir! Where's the ring?'  
  
Pippin awoke and gave him a blank look. 'Whaddaya mean?' he asked sleepily. 'Something goes missing and you immediately blame me. You Elves are so prejudiced.' He muttered something inaudible and dropped back to the ground  
  
'I was talking to Boromir - and I'm not an Elf.'  
  
'I am Boromir, you idiot!' said Pippin indignantly, sitting up. 'And have you checked your reflection lately? In any case, I haven't got the ring ... is it just me or have I shrunk over night?'  
  
'Oh my Valar ... I'm seeing myself!' cried Sam, staring at the body of Legolas who claimed he was Frodo, and then proceeded to swoon and faint, falling with a painful thud. 'You were supposed to catch me!' he then yelled, coming to with a sharp knock on the head as his skull was introduced to a stone. Gimli shrugged. 'Sorry,' he said, and then saw Pippin, and he too was lying flat on his back on the ground in three seconds. Well, it took three seconds for him to fall but two minutes for him to realise he was supposedly looking at himself. Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation and pointedly fainted again.  
  
'What is going on here?' cried Merry, unwravelling himself from a tangle of blankets. 'Legolas? What am I doing over here?'  
  
'I'm not Legolas, I'm Frodo.'  
  
'What? Don't be stupid ... what is that horrible smell?'  
  
'It was Aragorn.'  
  
'But I am Aragorn! Can't you see?'  
  
'No, you are Merry. Aragorn is over there.'  
  
Merry cast his bewildered gaze over the sleeping body of Aragorn, and a number of unpleasant oaths came spouting from his mouth. At which point, the body of Frodo woke up and glared at him. 'Mr. Merry, that's not nice language to use in the morning,' he said. 'My gaffer used to say "Keep your words clean and you'll stay out of trouble."' 'But I'm NOT Merry!' shouted Merry. 'And you don't have a gaffer, Frodo!'  
  
'Frodo?' Frodo blushed deeply. 'Mr. Merry, I think you're mistaken. I'm Sam.'  
  
'But Sam's over - ,' Merry waved vaguely in Sam's direction with mounting confusion. 'Who's wanting me?' came Boromir's voice, and looked over at the prone from of Master Gamgee who was still passed out from severe shock. 'Was it you Sam?'  
  
'No, I was talking to Mr. Merry,' said Frodo, pointing at the shock-faced Brandybuck quite nicely wrapped in his nest of blankets, trembling uncontrollably and with the last drop of colour drained from his face.  
  
'I am Merry, and I was talking to Sam,' said Boromir, bemused. 'Are you feeling well Frodo? I think you might have a fever, it's addled your brains. Have you caught Aragorn's cold again like Boromir?'  
  
'I'm Sam!' yelled Frodo, clenching his fists in an uncharacteristic rage. 'And you haven't got a cold, Boromir! Has everyone lost all sense of - sense?'  
  
Gandalf, robed in grey and carrying his staff, came sweeping gracefully onto the chaotic scene. 'Morning all!' he smiled, waving cheerily. At once realisation dawned on them.  
  
'GANDALF!'  
  
***  
  
'Well, yes, I certainly see we have a problem.'  
  
'Damn right we have a problem!' cried Aragorn, gesturing at the Brandybuck's body in which he was now entrapped. 'Look at me! I am four feet tall and have hairy feet! How is that going to go down in the court of Gondor?'  
  
'All hail the exalted monarch: Strider squirt, antsy Aragorn, tiny Telcontar, the heir of Isildur who needs two volumes of the Chronicles of Varda to address the people, and another two to be at head height with the page boy and climb onto his throne,' said Legolas drily, inspecting his soiled and chipped nails with a dismal expression, rubbing at them with the sandstone he kept for emergency manicures, and had retrieved from Frodo earlier, despite the argument that had erupted over it. Frodo too was particularly fussy over his outward appearance, and now that he had possession of the best-looking body that could presently be found, well, cat-fights were bound to happen ... and frequently.  
  
Pippin suddenly recalled something, and turned to look at Gimli the Ranger with an inquisitive look in his dwarvish eyes. 'Er, Gimli - ' he began, somewhat awkwardly, ' - doesn't it strike you as a little strange you spoke to me, namely yourself, this morning and never thought twice about it?'  
  
Gimli shrugged. 'No,' he said simply. 'Alright then,' Pippin nodded, and then frowned, looking bewildered, an expression common to Pippin yet containing much more thoughtfulness than Pippin was able to muster.  
  
Gandalf stroked his chin, appearing pensive. 'And what about me!' piped Legolas, sounding rather strange as he was using Sam's voice. 'I am a PRINCE! I am an ELF! I am an ELVEN PRINCE! Not a hobbit gardener! I do not dig dirt, and I do not get my nails filthy with Valar knows what hides in that disgusting soil! Just look at these fingers! Last night, they were perfect, as worthy of a prince as princely worthiness can get. This morning, it looks like I have been digging in a pig sty!'  
  
'Hey, Legolas, that's not a nice thing what to say,' said Sam, crossing Frodo's arms and tapping Frodo's hairy foot. 'I like being a gardener - regardless of what's hidden in the dirt - or where I dig.'  
  
'Hee hee, I'm tall,' giggled Merry, and then crossed his eyes, looked distinctly sick, and added, 'I don't like heights ... '  
  
'Be gentle with him!' said Boromir worriedly, peering out through Pippin's eyes. 'That's my body, mind what you do to it!'  
  
'Ach laddie, tis only a body,' said Gimli. 'Pippin, give me the axe, eh? Afore you go and chop my head off.'  
  
'And that's MY BODY!' shouted Aragorn, pointing accusingly at the original version of himself in which the dwarf was currently residing. His body shrugged nonchalantly, while Aragorn Brandybuck fumed in silence.  
  
Frodo reached for Sam. 'Can I have the ring back now?' he asked politely, curling his fingers in a "hand-it-over-or-die" kind of gesture. 'DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT THING ANYWHERE NEAR MY BODY!' screamed Legolas, stamping a foot in absoloute, point blank disapproval, rather a hard level of emotion for the simple Gamgee's body to accomplish effectively and efficiently. Legolas consequentially felt a little stupid as he ended up on his backside looking - well - stupid.  
  
'Yes, Frodo. Sam will have to keep it for now, as it is your body and therefore you are more or less still keeping it,' said Gandalf pointedly. 'You see, although it is Sam who has your body at present, it is your mind that will continue to be corrupted. If you claimed it while in Legolas' body, then it would be the Elf who would be victimised while in Sam's body. Do you understand?'  
  
'Yes,' said Frodo slowly. 'Your point being ... ?'  
  
'Oh yes, thank you so much,' said Legolas in a tone dripping with sarcasm. 'I love you too.'  
  
'Right, Gandalf,' said Aragorn, turning his four foot self to the wizard, who had fortunately remained unchanged. They dreaded to think what it would be like to be forced to live in that body ... 'We need the reversal thingy spell, and urgently.'  
  
Gandalf fingered his collar and chuckled uneasily. 'Yes, well you see -'  
  
'There is no reversal spell is there?' said Boromir drily.  
  
'Well, er - not that I know of,' Gandalf confessed. Aragorn Brandybuck looked about ready to choke him, until Frodo Greenleaf, now having the height advantage, restrained him. 'Calm down,' he instructed. 'Strangle him,' said Legolas Gamgee. 'Shut up,' shot Boromir Took.  
  
'Well, looks like we're a little stuck,' chimed in Pippin the Dwarf, spreading Gimli's hands in hopeless cheerfulness.  
  
'Stuck - I am not, repeat NOT, going to live in this body for the rest of my life,' cried Boromir. At this Legolas winced, and was once again on the ground. 'He really needs to stop doing that,' said Samwise Baggins, shaking Frodo's head. 'It's making my head hurt.' 


	2. They're Our Bodies and We'll Do What We ...

Chapter 2: They're Our Bodies and We'll Do What We Want To  
  
***  
  
'Frodo - I think it would be best if you gave Legolas back his bow and arrows,' said Aragorn, as Frodo's new Elven form proved not so compatible with his hobbit mind. Merry, pinned against the tree, gave Frodo a weak grin. 'Y-yes, you do that,' he encouraged, and then dashed away.  
  
'Come back with my body!' shouted Boromir. It was quite comical to see Boromir's body go running shakily away with Pippin's miniscule but enraged form close behind him.  
  
A loud scream came racketing through the trees, closely followed by the real Pippin. 'What? What?' cried Aragorn, running to him as fast as his hobbit body could run.  
  
'Call - of nature,' gasped Pippin breathlessly, and proceeded to mime awkwardly. Frodo smirked with his newly acquired Elvish smugness, for which all, including the owner of the body, wished to punch him. 'What did he say?' asked Aragorn blankly.  
  
Frodo looked at Gimli. 'He said he had an urgent call of nature and - got scared,' he chuckled. Gimli the Ranger scowled. 'Tis not my fault I was born that way,' he retorted. 'It's the natural dwarven heritage.' Frodo almost collapsed in his fit of laughter. Gimli raised Aragorn's fist threatingly, so Master Baggins the Elf quickly regained his composure, but could not hide the trembling of supressed giggles. This having been the third stop they had made since continuing once again, they were not making very good progress as yet.  
  
'Right you lot, whoever each of you now are,' said Gandalf loudly, standing up and glaring at all of them. 'We are now departing. Grab your packs and let's go.'  
  
***  
  
'Gandalf! Merry's looking down my pants again!'  
  
'Merry, stop looking down Boromir's pants. We don't need you awake at night with terrible dreams.'  
  
Boromir paused for a moment in thought, then with an indignant scowl said, 'Was that an insult?'  
  
'Your entrapment in that Took's body, has clearly slowed your mind,' said Gandalf, lighting his pipe with a whimsical shine to his eyes. Merry looked up from the depths of his - rather Boromir's - pants with a confused crease on his brow, and at length said, 'So, I have to put up with this for however long it takes Gandalf to find this spell?'  
  
Yet again Boromir scowled.  
  
Aragorn was rather bad-tempered. Not only had he found that he could no longer wield his famed and highly prized Blade That Was Broken, but those huge feet he had to learn to get around in were not at all to his liking. Several times he had tripped, and been severely reprimanded by Merry son of Denethor. Also, the thought of Gimli having control of his mouth and mind was something he would rather not have thoughts about.  
  
Frodo, however, was very much amused by this whole ordeal. Not only did he get to flaunt Legolas' sexy Elven body for the time being, while the Elf was stuck in the portly form of Sam, but he got to look down on Aragorn and Boromir and that irritating Elven prince! Fortune was smiling on him! Praise Elbereth for this grand change of luck, he thought with that Elven smugness. However, on seeing everyone staring at him with lowered brows and raised fists, the smugness fled into hiding and he gave them a weak grin instead.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Just be glad raising a fist against you has been illegalised,' said Aragorn in a temper, thoroughly fed up with their situation. 'Elrond spoils all the fun,' whined Boromir, and then paused. 'Did I actually say that and whinge just then?'  
  
'Gandalf, is there even a reversal spell?' said Legolas in exasperation. Gandalf, who had been sidling warily away and trying to appear inconspicuous, ceased his sidling and stood straight, clearing his throat. 'Ah, er, well,' he muttered, and coughed nervously. 'I - uh - do not believe there is. However,' he added, as every one began to close in on him with insane looks on their faces and hands outstretched, 'it will change.'  
  
Merry paused and scratched Boromir's now strangely tangled locks, getting his finger caught and having to wrench it out and spoil the whole "pensive- hobbit" thing. 'How exactly do you mean?' he asked, looking with distaste on the dredlock that appeared to have snaked its way around his finger of its own accord. 'Boromir, do you even know what a brush is? Or should I say garden rake? Actually, that looks a lot like my hair ... '  
  
'I have been doing a lot of thinking of late,' announced Gandalf in his "I-have-struck-upon-an-irrelevant-conclusion" voice.  
  
Aragorn tried to smother a snigger with a hand, but failed miserably.  
  
Gandalf glared at him. 'As I was saying,' he continued gruffly. 'I have been thinking, and I remembered something about this particular spell. You see - '  
  
'See what?' said Boromir quickly, glancing around, and then stood there looking stupid. 'This body is really starting to affect me ... '  
  
'You see - ' Gandalf started again, ' - the bodies you are in now will gradually begin to change back into your former selves; therefore eventually you will be returned to your normal state, but you will have to be patient. These things take time.'  
  
'Just like I will when I strangle you,' mumbled Aragorn. 'Prolong the suffering.'  
  
'Any hoo,' said Pippin, clapping his hands, an accurate impression of the Hobbiton kindergarten teacher, whether or not the impression was intended. Gimli looked minorly offended at seeing his body behaving in such a child - er - hobbitlike way, but said nothing, having Aragorn to saunter around in as compensation. He quite enjoyed being the tallest of the company, and definately enjoyed the boundless authority that now came with it.  
  
'We had best be going. Long ways to go yet,' said Merry, stamping on the dredlock in bewilderment, just to make sure it was well and truly dead.  
  
'Yes, yes,' said Gandalf, perching his hat jauntily on his head and looking to the south. 'It is time we faced to long dark of Moria.'  
  
'Out of the freezer and into - the freezer?' said Boromir, and looked rather bemused at that. His usual quick wit and irritating sarcasm seemed to have vanished, replaced by a complete and utter loss of wit and sarcasm. Stupid Tooks, he thought in a sombre thought voice, which was quickly followed by some song regarding ale houses and he found himself skipping merrily along after the others, before he managed to regain any self control he might have had before the accident and tried to maintain what dignity Pippin had not already stolen from him. Stupid Tooks, he thought again, and inevitably the ale song started up again and he fell into a peculiar pattern of humming, grumbling, skipping, stomping, whistling and muttering unpleasant curses under his breath.  
  
Stupid Tooks ... Ho ho ho! To the bottle I go ... No! Must - control - self ... To heal my heart and drown my woe ... Oh, to Mordor with it!  
  
***  
  
And so, in this peculiar fashion (namely the uninvited tenant affected by the remnants of the usual resident), they found themselves staring up a bleak wall of inpregnable black stone. 'Eep,' squeaked Aragorn, and hastily clapped a hand over his mouth, casting a venomous glare at Merry son of the Gondorian Steward's direction. Why, oh, why! was he the one to be caught within a cowardly squirt? Why?  
  
'It would appear,' decreed Gandalf, placing a hand against the cliff face, 'that nothing is appearing.' 'No, really?' muttered Legolas. 'I hadn't noticed.'  
  
No, you probably hadn't, Faerie Prince,' shot Boromir with a hint of his customary wittiness, and smirked as Legolas, yet again, scowled with an extra helping of indignance; and felt quite pleased with the fact that he was not entirely one-hundred percent Took, thank Valya.  
  
So, while Gandalf let out a vulgar stream of expletives when every spell he could recollect, which was hard as old age was finally setting in, failed to open the Gates, and took to bashing it pointlessly with his staff instead, Pippin of Erebor and Merry of Minas-Tirith began to skip stones to convey their extreme and boundless boredom.  
  
'Merry?'  
  
Splash splash kerplunk  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
Kerplunk  
  
'I'm bored.'  
  
Splash splash splash kerplunk  
  
'Me too. Pippin?'  
  
Kerplunk  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
Splash splash splash splash kerplunk  
  
'I'm bored.'  
  
Splash kerplunk  
  
'Me too. Merry?'  
  
Splash splash SMACK!  
  
'OW! Gim - I mean PIPPIN!' roared Aragorn Brandybuck, as the stone collided with his right eye. Hastily they dropped the pebbles.  
  
'Yeah - didn't we just have this conversation?' said Merry bemusedly, moving to scratch his head, then thinking better of it and jamming his hand in a pocket instead.  
  
'Dunno. I'm bored.'  
  
'Me too. Pippin?'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'Your - crotch armour has a hole in it.'  
  
'Me too - what?!'  
  
Merry collapsed in a fit of giggles as Pippin bent over to try and glimpse the said hole, which proved difficult as numerous hatchets kept poking him in the ribs and he would have sworn something was inhabiting the copper wire that sprouted from his head.  
  
Merry scrambled to his feet, almost tumbling backwards. Being at such an altitude took a lot of getting used to, and every time he cast his eyes downwards he felt as if breakfast and every meal prior to that was about to end up on the ground. However, he was positive that this height was slowly decreasing - proudly he had announced that he had shrunk a full five millimetres since the incident, as they had moped about that morning, although no-one had taken much notice and congratulated him while not really clear on what they were supposed to be congratulating him on.  
  
Gandalf gave in and sulked on a nearby boulder, his staff close to having a nervous breakdown itself after such a severe - and uneccessary - battering against solid stone.  
  
***  
  
'Right Sam, here's the deal - you don't touch the ring, I don't touch you,' Frodo proposed, holding up a warning finger. Sam nodded fervently. He was not particularly impressed by the new form his master had taken on, and also wondered why he had not been allowed to inhabit one of the Big Folk. A sudden thought struck him, most likely influenced by the Ring which he had an urge to abscond with.  
  
'Hold up Mr. Frodo,' he said, and grinned wryly, and wagged a finger. 'I am afraid I can't accept orders from you.'  
  
The Elven hobbit looked stunned. 'What do you mean?'  
  
Sam drew himself up boldly, jabbing a thumb at his, rightfully Frodo's, chest. 'I'm my own master now,' he said with a sneer, and then looked mildly bewildered. 'Did I really just say that? Oh well - my precious ... '  
  
Frodo turned at once to the wizard with a typical Elvish sulk on his face, and began to whine loudly. 'Gandalf! Sam says he's not my servant anymore! Make him serve me!'  
  
'Shut up Frodo, you pompous ass!' cried Legolas moodily, and clapped a hand over his mouth. 'I just swore at myself ... oh Elbereth Gilthoniel and any other names of any other local deities.'  
  
'Shut up all of you!' roared Gandalf. 'Live with it! It is only temporary; you are not going to be like - your current selves forever, Valar forbid. Now close your mouths, and the next person to speak gets a headache.' He brandished his staff to show he meant it.  
  
***  
  
Pippin began to make shapes with his hands. Merry looked at him worriedly. Pippin persisted in a more agitated fashion. Merry still merely looked worriedly at him.  
  
'I said THIS IS GETTING TEDIOUS!' the Took dwarf shouted, leaping to his feet. Within seconds he was staggering around dazedly, his head having met momentarily with Gandalf's staff, as threatened.  
  
'No signing, writing, coding, or the like,' Gandalf warned his companions, who appeared to have been dipped in high-strength starch from their postures. 'I need utter silence - Aragorn, I can see you doing that.'  
  
The hobbit Ranger grinned guiltily and lowered his hand, having been twirling it beside an ear whilst gaping like a fish. Legolas was in stitches over this, having acquired the humour of the Gamgee, and consequentially went head first over the log on which he was daintily (as much as could be managed) perched.  
  
And lo! a cloud obligingly moved aside and the moon shone forth, reflecting off Pippin's armour and effectively blinding everyone for some space of time, in which there was much groping and complaining and tripping and cursing.  
  
Gandalf was the first to recover the use of his eyes, and discovered that lo! the Moria gate was before him, and lo! there were lots of funny little scribbles all over it. With a rather loud and very offensive swear word Aragorn tripped over Merry's shield, crashed into Frodo, who fell onto Boromir, thus creating a very effective domino effect.  
  
Gandalf had just lifted his arms to begin to translate and look mighty and impressive when he was knocked flying.  
  
Nearby there was a great deal of amused sniggering, then a severe reprimand, a hollow thud as of a fist colliding with a skull, a wince, and then dejected footsteps that padded away into the night.  
  
After much awkward clambering, they all found their feet again. Gandalf, rather put-out, gruffly read the scribbles out for the sake of those who had no knowledge of scribbles unless they were trying to write:  
  
'Riddle of the day: Speak, friend, and enter. For answer see inside.'  
  
'What do you suppose that means?' questioned Merry, squinting.  
  
'That if this Valar-damn gate does not open I am going to have a cardiac arrest,' grumbled Gandalf. And then - something stirred in the water at their backs.  
  
Sam gave a vague remark, then screamed and proceeded to be flung around by a large and ugly mottled tentacle.  
  
However, the others were a little preoccupied with the riddle, and appeared not to notice. 'I'll bet it has something to do with speaking,' said Boromir thoughtfully, looked confused, then grumbled something inaudible.  
  
Legolas tapped his hobbit-chin. 'Worms,' he announced at last, stamping one hairy foot. 'Worms - must be about worms ... Gilthoniel have mercy! Did I just say that?'  
  
'No! Ale!' protested Aragorn shortly. 'Most important liquid in the known world - oh gods, I really need to get out of this body.'  
  
'Hey you bastards!' screamed Sam. 'Help!'  
  
As one the others turned and said 'Oh,' then leapt to with great lack of co-ordination to rescue the new Ringbearer. Merry took chance of the disturbance to punch Frodo in the fair face for his Elven smugness, which he was presently exercising once more.  
  
Sighing, Gandalf sank down on his boulder. How was he supposed to be expected to get through this? 


End file.
